


Breath

by EmpressCirque



Category: Uncharted
Genre: Canon Related, Character Study, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 16:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4107463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressCirque/pseuds/EmpressCirque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A city burns behind him, but she is dying before him. Nate/Elena. One Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ironmermaidens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironmermaidens/gifts).



> So, somehow I managed to not only just basically write the ending on Uncharted 2 for this prompt, I also somehow made it 2,169 words. Forgive me for the most boring prompt fill ever.
> 
> I was given the prompt to make a character say, ""Look at me - just breathe, okay?"
> 
> Mostly just dialog and action were cut because I couldn’t figure out how to make them work well with how I was trying to portray the scene and Nate’s thoughts. I dunno, I kinda like it, I just wish it was more original.
> 
> Forgive me for being lame Uncharted fandom. This is my first time writing fanfiction for the Uncharted universe (oops) and I tried my best.
> 
> Originally this work was posted to my first AO3 account, but I have since moved to this one.

An entire city is shattering to ruins because of him, but Nathan Drake could not be more pleased. Let Shambhala burn, he says, and let the Tree of Life burn with it until there is nothing left but ashes and dust. The heat of the flames licks the back of his legs as he runs and the wounds on his face sting worse than anything he has ever experienced before, but he forces himself to keep moving forward. He can see Chloe in the distance, her arms wrapped tightly around Elena, who clings weakly to his partner’s side. He moves faster and calls for them, they have to move. He starts to scream for Chloe to get Elena out of there, but the floor buckles beneath him causing him to fall forward.

He barely catches the edge of the stone path in front of him and it takes all his strength to pull himself back up. He does not allow himself any time to rest and continues to run, never looking back at the destruction he has brought to an entire civilization. Let it burn, he repeats.

“Chloe!” He is nearly out of breath when he reaches her, “Come on! We’ve got to get her out of here!” He puts Elena’s arms around him and heaves her upwards and she cries out in pain, he knows he is hurting her, but he cannot stop. They have to move or they will die; she will die. He cannot let that happen. Let the city burn, but please, he begs to no one, please let her live.

He hears Chloe’s voice as they stumble up the stairs and out to safety, “What the hell did you do back there?”

He tries his best to play it cool; he does not want to worry her, she probably is already worried enough as it is. He takes a breath and looks at her, “Oh, you know, saved the world.”

His eyes catch a glimpse of Elena’s face as he turns to give his partner his trademark smirk, and his heart drops.

They come to stop and Nate allows himself to let her go, just for a moment, “You got her?”

Chloe nods and he turns. He told himself he would not look back, but he cannot help it anymore. Bright blue flames are consuming trees and buildings, the smell in the air is sickeningly sweet and he quietly laughs as the very source of immortality takes all the life around it to hell, but as they creep closer to them with each passing second he knows there is no time for such thoughts.

“Dammit,” he rushes to Elena and takes her in his arms; she feels like dead weight, “We’ve gotta move faster. Let’s go!”

Chloe says nothing and allows him to take on the burden alone, following him as he takes the lead. They can smell the air soon enough and Nate tries his best to keep calm as he tells Elena they are almost out, but he can hear the sound of his voice breaking with each passing second.

He quickly finds a place to rest her body and falls to his knees beside her, “Oh no.”

He looks up at Chloe, and he knows he is begging her to do something, to save her because he cannot, but she only shakes her head and watches him with eyes that have seen death too many times before.

“Elena,” he begs as he shakes her shoulders, “Hold on, alright? Just hold on!”

He tries to reason with himself that they need to keep moving and find her a doctor, but he is sure he will not be able to move another inch until she wakes up. He shakes her again, “Open your eyes. Elena, come on, open your eyes!”

He reaches forward. Why is she not breathing? “Look at me – just breath, okay? Elena, please! You need to breath!”

Lazarević was right, Nate reasons.

_You’re no different than me._

Elena is going to die and he knows he cannot blame Harry for this. It might as well have been him pulling the pin on that grenade.

_How many men have you killed?_

Elena is going to die because of him. Her blood is on his hands, hell, it is literally on his fucking hands and he is not sure he can live knowing that.

He grabs onto her again and swallows back tears, Chloe moves to pull him away from her and he jerks away from her touch.

“Don’t!” His eyes never leave Elena’s broken form and he sobs, “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be just fine.”

Chloe watches from the sidelines and he knows she is trying to find the words to calm his frenzy.

“Elena, don’t do this!” He cannot find the words he needs to say and he chokes back another wave of tears. “Don’t leave me!”

I love you, he tries to tell her, I love you so goddamn much, but the words refuse to move past his lips. He is sure she is going to die, but he cannot say it because he is a damn coward. He killed her and now he is too scared to tell her how much he loves her.

It feels like he has been sitting there for hours, begging and praying, by the time Chloe convinces him they need to keep moving and it is only after he feels Elena’s heartbeat, ever so faintly, that he agrees to do so. When they finally reach the village, he refuses to leave her side until Chloe manages to get Sully to fly in and even then his mentor is forced to pull the boy away from her and order him to get some rest and food. He sleeps outside her room.

Elena wakes up days later, but he cannot bring himself to go to her side because if he were her, he would blame him for everything that happened and every scar on her body, so instead he avoids her room. Knowing she is okay is enough. Knowing she will live to fight another day is enough. He wanders around for days, barely eating and only stopping long enough to help Tenzin clean up the mess his adventure has caused. Chloe helps too and sometimes she tries to convince him to go to Elena’s side, but he tells her not to worry about it.

“So,” she approaches him one afternoon, just as the sun is setting, “It’s been a long, strange trip, hasn’t it?”

He raises a brow and turns to look at her, chuckling slightly that she is only just now bringing up these facts. “Yes it has,” he responds and grabs one hand with the other, as she hums amused, “You know, you should play the hero more often. It suits you.”

Her eyes look to the side and she purses her lips, “Nah.”

He can’t help but laugh, probably his first real laugh in days, maybe even weeks. She smiles a bit before looking back down at the ground and sighing, “Tell me something, Nate… Do you love her?”

His mouth falls open, just a bit, in disbelief. He should have known this was about Elena, “Chloe, I’m sorry but—”

She cuts him off, raising her hand just slightly from her side and smiling, “No. It’s fine. Really. It’s all right. Just… do yourself a favor, cowboy; tell her.” She nods her head to her right and Nate follows her movement, his gaze falling to Sully carefully helping Elena down a small flight of stairs.

“Chloe…”

“No.” She pats his cheek and smirks, “My turn to walk away.”

As she turns, there is an undeniable pain in his chest, as if his heart is fracturing slightly at the sight. He frowns and she turns her head to him, “But admit it, you’re gonna miss this ass.”

He laughs before approaching Sully and Elena with a nervous smile. A part of him is still sure she will hate him for all he has done, “Well, look who’s not supposed to be out of bed.”

Nate notices the cigar in the elder man’s hand and mentally notes to chastise him for smoking near a wounded woman later. Sully pulls the object from his lips and turns to smile at the young lady to his side, her arm wrapped around his own for assistance, he is sure. “She’s a lousy patient. Stubborn as all hell.”

.“I’m not stubborn,” Elena argues, as she glares playfully at Sully and lets his arm free, before pushing him back gently, “I’m just restless.”

Sullivan laughs and after a moment sticks the cigar back in his mouth, “No giant sapphire?”

“No. Just a metaphor, I’m afraid.”

“Metaphors don’t pay the bills, kid.”

They all laugh and Nate assures him that something else is sure to come along. After a moment, he slowly approaches Elena, trying his best to act confident as he offers her his arm and to his relief, she does not hesitate to take it. Sullivan smirks and turns slightly to look glance behind himself, “Uh, which way’d Chloe go?”

Nate points him in the right direction, “You’re a dirty, old man Sullivan!” 

Elena laughs and and Nate cannot help but join her as his elder offers a bored sound of agreement in return. He is left alone with Elena after that, and for the first time in so long he cannot find anything to say. After a moment, Elena looks up at him and offers a kind, “You did good, Nate,” as an icebreaker. She grips his arm slightly, as if to assure him that now, everything is going to be okay and guides him towards the setting sun. “Where do we go from here?”

The question is loaded and he is not sure he knows how to answer it. He wants to tell her how much he loves her, that he is ready to spend his life with her and give up the treasure hunting business, but he knows he would be a liar. Instead, he turns to her and shakes his head and smirks.

“I dunno.” He shrugs his shoulders before glancing down at her lips. This time he does not hesitate to kiss her and he tries to pour every ounce of his love into it, to tell her silently the words he cannot say. She returns the favor and her lips tell him that she knows. He laughs and rests his forehead on hers, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Of course not.” She smiles as he puts his hands on her shoulders, “Then again, neither have I.”

“Good.”

She takes his hand and the continue to walk forward and he can feel the smile on his own face growing by the second when she asks, “So, on a scale of one to ten, how scared were you that I was gonna die?”

Ten does not cover how scared he was and in fact, he is sure no number could express the sheer terror he felt that day. He wants to tell her that, but it sounds too sentimental, too much like someone who he just cannot be. He is not good enough for her, so instead he lies, “Four.”

“Four?”

“Yeah, why?”

“A four? You were at least an eight!” She laughs and holds her hands up, as he shrugs and looks towards the mountains in the distance. “You were a total eight!”

“An eight? Those guardian things were an eight!”

She forces him to face he and raises a brow, “Are you kidding me? What’s a ten?”

He shrugs, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world, “Clowns.”

“Clowns over my death? Clowns.” She continues to laugh and he can’t help but smile with her, even though the feeling of guilt and shame continue to grow in his gut.

“I… I hate clowns.”

“You thought I was dead.” He puts an arm around her and tries to assure her that he was sure she was fine. God, she is so beautiful when she laughs. “I saw you shed tears. You shed a bunch of them.”

How does she know that? He swallows and steps back, trying harder to play it cool, “It was raining.” She argues. “You were unconscious and it was raining.”

“It was totally sunny out!”

A pause.

“I kept your tears in a jar,” she says, sounding ever so proud of herself, “I have proof.” As she rests her head on his arm, he leans over and kisses her matted hair, taking in the smell of what can only be described as Elena Fisher. He promises himself then and there that he will never lose her again, but he knows he is lousy at keeping his word. He is going to hurt her again, he reminds himself, because he is not a good man like she wants to believe.

He forces a smile and looks down at her, “I’ll give you a five… how’s that?”

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2014.
> 
> Formatting updated as of 11/20/15.


End file.
